


Trust

by Rachrar



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, No juicy deets in this one though, implied nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 14:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11187039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachrar/pseuds/Rachrar
Summary: He wanted to say “no, thank you, I’m afraid I have other things to do and inventions to create for you” but he said “Yes, Jefecito” and “please, Boss” and “oh god yes, right there.”





	Trust

Flug was weak.

When Black Hat finishing recording his commercial, he’d turn his hooded gaze to Flug, beckoning with a satin-gloved finger for the scientist to follow. Flug couldn’t refuse, stepping after his boss with his heart thudding painfully in his chest.

He wanted to say “no, thank you, I’m afraid I have other things to do and inventions to create for you” but he said “Yes, Jefecito” and “please, Boss” and “oh god yes, right  _ there _ .”

He never quite recalled every night, but every morning was the same. He’d wake up in a cold, empty bed, naked on the silken sheets, his clothing folded neatly on the nearby desk. He would dress and leave for the laboratory, tinkering away for hours and hours until he invented something new and the cycle repeated.

They never mentioned anything to each other. From the outside, there was nothing at all going on. The bruises and hickeys on Flug’s skin belied their nearly adversarial work relationship.

Months and months and months passed in this way. Dementia didn’t know what was going on, focused on her own world and obsessions. 5.0.5, however, knew everything. The bear was the one to clean Flug’s clothing and make sure the man ate at least once a day, trying to keep Flug alive and rested.

When Flug’s head began to droop, jerking back up in little fits and bursts, trying to stay conscious and finish just one more equation, 5.0.5 went to his boss. With a gentle tug on Black Hat’s sleeve, he signaled Flug’s deterioration.

Black Hat would always slap the bear’s hand away before realizing what was meant. He dismissed the bear, then patiently set up the camera, adjusting it just so to show his office in the best light, then picked through the many devices Flug had made that had yet to be advertised. Upon choosing one, he would send 5.0.5 off to gather the scientist.

When Flug’s body finally relented under Black Hat, the ingrained tension falling away, the fear fading into subspace and peace, the constant voice of anxiety silenced in favor of calm understanding of his place in the world, Black Hat knew his job was finished. He brought Flug back down in slow, measured paces until the man was boneless on the bed, mind finally acquiescing to the body’s request for rest, and he slept.

Black Hat would take each bit of clothing to the bear, gathering Flug’s bag and getting him a new, clean one to lay on the desk with his goggles. He never stayed; he never needed to sleep, and Flug would need his space upon awakening.

While they danced around the relationship they both wanted but neither felt the other desired, he held himself back, refusing to break the one who trusted him. Faith was something he did not understand, and he was unwilling to lose the first person he trusted in return.


End file.
